Weldon Kees

Variations on a Theme by Joyce

The war is in words and the wood is the worldThat turns beneath our rootless feet;the vines that reach, alive and snarled,Across the path where the sand is swirled,Twist in the night. The light lies flat.The war is in words and the wood is the world.

The rain is ruin and our ruin ridesThe swiftest winds; the wood is whorledAnd turned and smoothed by the turning tides.--There is rain in the woods, slow rain that breedsThe war in the words. The wood is the world.This rain is ruin and our ruin rides.

The war is in words and the wood is the world,Sourceless and seized and forever filledWith green vine twisting on wood more gnarledThan dead men's hands. The vines are curledAround these branches, crushed and killed.The war is in words and the wood is the world.